


The Sound of Din

by AcademiaCrypt



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, No Plot, No Spoilers, Oneshot, Pining, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sexual Tension, Showers, Sort Of Fluff, Stuff happens in a shower what can i say, Tension, add a little bit of...spice, i would let din step on me no questions asked, not exactly smut but the implications you feel me, showering with din eeeeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcademiaCrypt/pseuds/AcademiaCrypt
Summary: When sight is often denied to you, you find other avenues to learn your way around the Mandalorian.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 16
Kudos: 186





	The Sound of Din

Strange how something as ordinary as sound can stir such profound feelings.

The first time you noticed, it was confusing. A metallic “clink” that you’d heard hundreds, if not thousands of times. Except this time, your chest tightened, heart suddenly heavy in its depths. You turned around to look at the source.

“How’s it coming?” Mando asked.

You glanced dumbly at the tangle of wires hanging from the wall of the ship. There was a reason they were there, you were sure of it. What exactly the reason was, you were less sure of. The unexpected clink followed by Mando’s sudden proximity seemed to have vacated your thought process.

“G-good,” you tried. “Almost done.”

He glanced between you and the colorful wad of mess. If you had to guess, you’d say his expression was incredulous.

“Alright,” he conceded, tone not betraying the doubt you knew he felt. “Let me know when you’re done and I’ll try restarting the combustion manifold.”

“Ok.”

The clink returned, this time fading away. Your chest tightened again, for a different reason.

It didn’t take long to understand why the sound of him approaching set your heart on fire. Once you knew, you were at a loss.

_Ok, and what now?_

The idea of _doing_ anything about it was unpalatable. No, downright _impossible._ While you had certainly gotten to know the Mandolorian during your months in his employment - you may even go so far as to call it a friendship - his icy exterior was not encouraging. You knew he trusted you. Not only with his ship, but with his foundling. Sometimes you thought he might even enjoy your company. Times when the silence of hyperspace consumed both of you long enough that a conversation took form.

But this? To imagine that the gruff, metal warrior harbored the same soft feeling that tugged at your heart…it was almost laughable.

And so at first, you suffered in silence. Head down. Work done. Speak just enough as necessary for duty and politeness. Stay out of the way. Reign in your heart when the sound of clinking sent it racing. For a long time, it worked.

Then you started to notice other sounds.

You had noticed them for longer than you allowed yourself to admit. Anytime he was near, every sense went on high alert. Every step, every word, every glance was soaked in entirely. So when you reached across the console to unscrew the metal ball for the kid, and your hand brushed across the top of his gloved one, his sharp, muted inhale was instantly noted. Then promptly reasoned away.

His foot steps were harder to ignore. They often sounded behind your back while you were working, bent over cleaning weapons or toying with a section of mechanics that needed improvement. The steps themselves weren’t the problem. It was when they stopped.

You’d hear him descend from the cockpit. A few familiar thumps later, and there was silence. You didn’t know if he was headed for the bunk, the vault, the privy, or literally anything else. What you did know was that he was standing in the middle of the ship, and it was quiet.

Optimism, that sneaky whore, convinced you that you felt his gaze on the back of your neck. It whispered that he was looking at you, up and down, filled with the same longing that burned through your entire body. It told you to turn around. Confront him.

Logic, steady and reliable, promptly told optimism to sit down. The fact was, he could be doing anything. Looking at anything. Every time it happened. No matter how many times that was.

You spent a lot of time tweaking with the ship. Or cleaning weapons. Or caring for the child. That was, after all, your job. And now, you spent an equal amount of time listening. Any time your back was turned and you appeared to be absorbed in the work in front of you, your ears were tuned to everything except your task. They brought you the gentle whir of the engines. The pleasant gurgles of the sleeping baby. The creaks and groans of an old hull ripping through hyperspace.

And, time and time and time again, they brought you his halting foot steps.

The day didn’t come until almost a year under his employment. On that day, optimism and logic had been especially deadlocked. Logic was on the path to victory once again.

And then you heard him stop behind you. In that split second, optimism’s strength skyrocketed. One moment they were locked, the next it was crushing logic’s arm into the table with such force that everything shattered.

You turned around.

The Mandalorian was staring at you.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved. The worst part was, you knew you didn’t look surprised. As loud as logic was, you had been expecting this. You only wished you could see if _he_ was surprised.

You had no expectation in particular. You simply needed to know. And now that you did, the next step was unclear. Technically, his action wasn’t damning. It wasn’t even confirmation. He was allowed to stop and look at whatever he wanted on his own ship. Just as you were allowed to return his gaze. Steady, unsure, and inquisitive.

 _He could just be examining your work,_ logic whispered, clutching a bruised arm.

 _Then why is he still here, looking at your face, when you’ve stopped working?_ Optimism countered, still aglow with victory.

They never decided a winner. Mando turned just as abruptly as he had stopped and went back to the cockpit, metal steps clinking the whole way.

* * *

You didn’t hear him stop again after that.

Initially you were disappointed. Worried you had offended him, or perhaps…embarrassed him? Then, gradually, the halting steps were replaced with something else. A slim black visor, trained directly on you. Instead of stopping behind your back, he would stop in front of you. He never said a word so you didn’t either. Just let him examine you, and examined him back.

The only sound you could hear in those moment was silence. You knew, of course, that it wasn’t silent. The hum and buzzing of the Razor Crest never stopped. But your heart hammered so hard, flushing out all other senses, that the only thing you could perceive was the man in front of you. There was no noise. No ship beneath your feet. No blaster in your hands. Only a thin black line, hiding eyes you knew nothing about except for the fact that they were meeting yours.

As always, it ended as suddenly as it began and Mando was gone. Logic and optimism took turns at deciphering. Both agreed on one thing. You felt like you were being tested.

Not in a malice way. More of an…uncertain, unable to communicate properly, kind of way. Logic stuck to her old argument. _He’s monitoring you. Maybe testing your resolve. Watching your work and making you squirm so that you respect him._

Optimism practically scoffed. _You know him better than that. He wouldn’t do that to you._ You tried to ignore her, drown her out, but she managed to wriggle her crushing words in anyway:

_It’s an invitation._

The principle of who he was made you scoff at the idea. You certainly couldn’t peg Mando as anything less than confident. Everything he did spoke of surety. So the idea that these silent, hesitant glances were his way of showing or…inviting, something seemed…out of character.

Then it occurred to you that you had done everything in your power to hide the way you felt. Up until recently, you barely looked at him. Ducked out of the way whenever he was near. Spoke only as much as necessary. You had given him exactly zero reasons to have the confidence he normally displayed.

With a burst of sharp, uncomfortable realization, the stares took on a whole new meaning. A test, just as you thought. But also a deniable, un-incriminating, subtle…declaration.

An invitation.

To do _what_ , exactly, you weren’t so sure.

* * *

As it turned out, you didn’t have to wonder long.

The cockpit was small. Not exactly cramped. You spent a lot of time there. Sometimes with a legitimate task. Other times, spinning your wheels as an excuse to hear his voice a little longer. He had grown accustomed to chatting with you and you soaked up every word like your life depended on it.

Occasionally, you dropped the guise of occupation and simply sat to talk with him. If he noticed, he didn’t mention it. This was one of those times.

“Finally got the kid to sleep,” you said with a stretch as you sat down behind him.

“That’s good,” he said.

“I cannot believe how much energy he had.”

“Well, spending two days on a planet crawling with frogs and insects can do that to a little carnivore.”

You laughed. “You’d think that would tire him out.”

“You’d think.”

You laughed again, then stopped as you heard something that made your throat catch.

Mando laughed.

You had heard him do it before…sort of. Usually just a quick, stuttering exhale when the kid did something ridiculous, or you zapped yourself while rewiring circuits. But this one was different. It actually came from his throat, a low rumble that you may have missed were you not so attuned to his every sound. And it was utterly delicious.

Unfortunately he noticed your hesitation and stopped. His head turned to the side and you just barely caught a glance of the edge of his visor. An unspoken question, which you didn’t answer. After a handful of silent, potent seconds, he turned back around.

“We’re gonna need to resupply once we reach Corellia,” he said. You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you. “Do you mind to take care of that while I get the quarry?”

You nearly laughed again. _Did you mind?_ He literally paid you to do what he said.

“I don’t mind.”

“Thank you.” A few more heartbeats passed. “Have you eaten?”

Distractions were a plenty in your life. It wasn’t that you chose not to eat, but it often slipped your mind. He had noticed, over time.

“Not yet.”

“You should.”

“I will.”

A space of silence fell. You could hear him breathing. Deep, and measured. You imagined what that breath would sound like next to your ear. Whispering to you. Panting against your neck.

When he cleared his throat your heart froze, panicked as though he could somehow hear you. Blood rushed to your cheeks despite knowing it was impossible. You moved to stand, convinced if you spent another second in his company, he _would_ hear you.

Apparently, he had the same idea.

“I think I’ll go ahead and-“

“I suppose I should-“

The words were halfway out of his mouth as he turned the pilots chair. You both stood at the same time, abruptly coming face to face. Then froze.

He stared at you. Nothing new. You fought to hide your pounding heart behind calculated body language. Seconds dripped and you waited for him to move. He always did. Each stare down ended with his abrupt departure.

When you heard the first _clink,_ you thought that was what was happening. Except there were only two, and when you looked up he was still in front of you. Much closer. Mere inches away. A few thick, pulsing inches.

“Something else I can…do for you?” You asked. It was supposed to come out cool but you were pretty sure it was more like a timid mouse.The silence had once again took over your senses. The silence that blocked every sight and sound except for him.

He took another half step. “You tell me.”

At those deep, raspy words, dripping with insinuation and challenge, something new overtook your body. You couldn’t put a word to it even if you tried. But it was strong, it was raw, and it demanded action. Logic and optimism both took a collective back seat as this newcomer reigned your body.

“I want you to kiss me.”

You didn’t recognize the voice your throat just produced. Your treacherous lips let it pass without so much as an attempt at resistance.

_Oh hell._

The silence in the air didn’t burn nearly as much as the fire on your skin. Mando stood rigid, stare as blank as ever. You briefly considered taking it back. Apologizing. The thought was abandoned instantly.He had started it, after all.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You knew he couldn’t take his helmet off, and you wouldn’t ask him too. You hoped he didn’t think that’s what you _were_ asking. He had asked a question- sort of - and you had done the only thing you had left to do. Tell the truth.

Just as you drew breath to clarify that you were not, in fact, asking him to betray one of his most steadfast beliefs, Din cut through the last few blazing inches between your bodies. Beskar was cool even through your clothes and air vacated your lungs. You looked up with wide eyes, mouth agape. Whatever words you thought to say next died on your tongue when a gloved hand rose and covered your panicked eyes.

He waited for you to calm down, shoulders slowly dropping. Then, you heard your new favorite sound. The shuffle of metal on fabric as Din lifted his helmet.

His breath hit your mouth a split second before his lips and both felt exquisite. Who knew such hardened steel could hide something so soft and supple.

His first kiss was gentle, mouth barely ghosting yours, moving only slightly, testing. You melted. Regrettably, it didn’t last long. The sound of his lips leaving yours was both terrible and divine. You could tell he didn’t go far. His hand stayed on your eyes and his breath continued to hit your face.

Normally, you’d use your eyes to convey your desire for more. You knew that was the indication he was waiting for. That asset denied to you, your tongue darted across your bottom lip instead, and you tilted your chin up. Din accepted the invitation.

This time his tongue slipped between your parted lips. Yours greeted him with enthusiasm. His free arm wrapped around you and you felt the bulk of his helmet pressing into your side where he still held it. Your own hands instinctively reached for his face. Then, worried that may make him nervous, settled on his waist instead. You silently cursed the beskar and thick clothes that separated you from his skin. Then his tongue swirled in your mouth and your frustration was forgotten.

The rumble in his throat was so low that at first you didn’t notice it. Then it steadily grew louder, and your ears became acquainted with the heavenly sound that was Din Djarin’s moan. The blazing heat that pooled in your belly made you echo him.

You separated, panting heavily. Maker, you wished you could see his eyes right now. What kind of expression they held as he looked at you. Or his mouth, and the lips you knew would be wet and a little reddened.

“That’s all you wanted, hm?”

Was that his real voice? His rich baritone had turned your legs to jelly even through the distortion of a modulator. You had never imagined it could actually sound _better._

“Y…yeah,” you whispered.

You felt him lean forward again. Your lips tingled and you knew his mouth was centimeters from yours. “Anything else I can do for you then?”

A hot shiver crawled up your spine and you fought to suppress it. With it came a dose of boldness. “Yeah…”

“Hm. Tell me.”

A smirk pulled at your lips and you drew breath to do exactly that.

The kid chose that moment to cry. You turned instinctively, but Din’s hand didn’t move from your eyes. You held still as his arm uncoiled from you and he put his helmet back on. When he finally granted your sight back you had to blink a few times, surprised at the sudden brightness. You glanced at him once, then turned to leave the cockpit. His hand on your bicep stopped you.

“I expect an answer. Later.”

You couldn’t have stopped the grin even if you wanted to.

* * *

 _Later_ turned out to be much, much later. Technically not at all if you were considering whether you actually finished your answer. Life with the Mandalorian was hectic. Corellia arrived much sooner than you would have liked, and it was time for him to leave you.

You were finishing the prep for your resupply journey. Checking your credits, getting the kid’s cradle ready. Behind you, you could hear Mando re stocking his ammo belt.

“Alright, I’m gonna get going,” he said. You turned around to look at him. “Shouldn’t be more than a day or so.” He snapped his blaster into place at his hip. “If that. He’s wanted for small time embezzlement so…not much of a fighter.”

You nodded as you listened. Then Din turned around, looked at you, and stepped forward. You knew exactly how telling your face was and you hated it. For the first time, you envied his mask. He could be just as wide eyed and red cheeked as you were, but you’d never know. Though his confident strides made you seriously doubt it.

He only stopped when his chest was a hair breadth from yours. His helmet tilted.

“Close your eyes,” he said gently. So gently in fact, you recognized it as more of a request than an order. That didn’t stop you from immediately complying. The shuffle of metal on fabric set your heart thumping.

He kissed you soft and slow. You leaned up eagerly and your forehead bumped something hard. Without opening your eyes, you recognized the edge of his helmet. He had only slipped it off halfway. You chuckled against his mouth and he lifted it a little higher.

You loved that he simply offered the gesture, unprompted. Despite not having an actual conversation about what was transpiring between the two of you, it didn’t feel needed. _You_ had certainly felt it building for a long time, and now his actions confirmed it had been mutual. Seamless, silent transition from nonexistent goodbyes, to goodbye kisses.

His mouth left you too soon and you waited for his ok before opening your eyes. You smiled up at him, and despite seeing nothing but an emotionless visor, you knew he was smiling back.

Without another word, he was gone.

* * *

Din’s calculations were rarely off. He had been doing this work for so long, he could often peg his quarry’s potential location, their next move, and the likelihood of resistance all before he reached the planet. On rare occasions, however, they did something unexpected. Something that threw even someone as experienced as Din for a loop.

This was one such occasion.

As expected, the quarry wasn’t violent. What Din hadn’t counted on, was their exceptional talent at disappearing. And so one day turned into two. Then three. Then a week. You received only one communication from him during that time, letting you know he was going to be delayed and not to leave the ship. As if you had anywhere else to go.

You and the kid wiled away the time cleaning the ship, tinkering with the internal mechanics - well, you tinkered, he watched - and playing his favorite game of hide and seek. Which, as it turned out, was less of a game and more his way of avoiding nap time.

At last, after one particularly tiresome day of wrangling the child from beneath the control console, Mando returned. He hauled with him a subdued, self-satisfied looking Clawdite. It didn’t say a word, just threw you a curious glance as Din placed him in the carbonite chamber. It grimaced when it noticed where it was being placed.

“Any chance you can just lock me up?” He asked in a thin, raspy voice. “You know I won’t be any trouble.”

Din spared him one blank glance. Then promptly activated the chamber, setting off a familiar loud hiss and billowing white cloud. You smirked and shook your head.

“Seemed like a nice guy.”

You heard a faint huff from beneath the helmet, telling you everything you needed to know about the state of his mood. “Nice alright. Led me halfway around the planet.”

“Can you blame him?”

Din paused and turned toward you curiously. Beskar pinged with each step that brought him in front of you, looking into your eyes. The child stood at your feet and watched you both, ears pricked.

“Siding with the quarry now, hm?” His tone was low and held an empty, teasing threat. Your heart pounded all the same.

“Nope. Of course not.”

His helmet slowly tilted down, then back up, looking you over. You knew he could have accomplished the action without moving anything but his eyes. The intentional lilt of his head had what you suspected was the desired effect, your insides turned to mush and your heart thump straight to your throat.

The air crackled with mutual, unfulfilled desire. There were about a dozen things you would have liked to do to him at that moment, each one rendered impossible by setting and company and time restraints.

“Good.” He said shortly. With that he bent down and scooped up the child who had clambered over to him, arms outstretched. “Close the hatch. We’re leaving.”

He climbed the ladder to the cockpit and it took a few seconds of defrosting your limbs and reining in your heart before you were able to obey his order.

* * *

After that, the hits just kept on coming.

The entire universe seemed determined to keep you from Din. If it wasn’t the child bouncing wide awake into any amount of trouble within reach, it was the Crest demanding attention on every other circuit and control module.

At one point, you thought a moment of peace had finally arrived. You were in the pilots seat, sending a message to Greef of your impending arrival on Nevarro. You had just finished transmitting when you heard the doors swish open and shut behind you. The clink of metal and absence of coos told you Din was alone. Gloved hands on your shoulders confirmed it.

“You’ve been busy,” he remarked casually.

Your head leaned back. “So have you.”

“Hmm…” his fingers slid back and forth along your shoulders. “Busy now?”

Your chest twisted against itself. “Nope…you?”

“Nope.”

The word was barely out of his mouth before he spun the chair around to face him. You gasped as he pulled you up hard against his chest. Your hands found a place on his chest plate. One gloved hand reached up and drifted gently down your face. You closed your eyes obediently. Then heard his helmet drop to the floor.

He captured your lips with hunger, soothing but insistent on your bottom lip. The starvation was palatable, both of you giving in to ravenousness. You allowed him in just long enough to find purchase on his tongue, and suck. The groan he emitted churned your belly in the most delightful way. His hands started to wander, first down your shoulders, then your back, creeping lower. You arched into him and pulled on his belt, the only gesture you could think of to encourage him. To say yes, _please_ touch me.

Somewhere along the line you forgot to breathe. You didn’t notice until your lungs were burning so hard you physically couldn’t stop yourself from breaking away, gasping. His own breath came ragged and labored and deliciously hot on your neck as he moved to kiss you there.

He paused. Mouth on your throat. His hips pushed against you just slightly and your breath hitched. You immediately understood, and relished, every ounce of meaning in the action.

He wanted more. And you were more than happy to give it to him.

Your hands had just managed to wriggle between your bodies, fingertips just barely slipping beneath his belt, when a screaming alarm made you both jolt. Din’s hand flew to your eyes, anticipating your instinctual panic. They did, in fact, fall open for the briefest second before snapping shut again. You felt awful, yet grateful for his foresight.

Eyes once again closed tight, you heard Din retrieve his helmet. When you opened them, and before you could ask what was going on, a deep, guttural roar sounded from below. Followed immediately by a familiar cry. Din drew his blaster and _flew_ down the ladder. You didn’t need ask anymore.

The baby had managed to deactivate a carbonite chamber.

* * *

Another stop on Nevarro. Another new set of quarry. Another drag through hyperspace. Din never did take breaks.

Not that you minded. It wasn’t like there was somewhere else for you to be. Though you couldn’t help but worry sometimes, if he was working himself too hard. You wondered how the conversation would go if you ever tried to mention it to him. Likely about as well as when Greef mentioned it.

You on the other hand, weren’t afraid to indulge in the occasional - well deserved - downtime. After sorting away the supply haul, feeding the kid, locking in your course and managing to wrestle the green goblin into bed, it was high time for a shower. You almost laughed at the thought that your idea of “down time” was just a shower. Considering the non stop pace at which you lived, it was a fitting description.

But when you opened the fresher, you were surprised to hear the static ting of water on metal. You looked at the shower door and cocked your head.

“Din?”

“Yeah?”

You swallowed hard. “Oh- sorry. I thought you were in the cockpit.”

“Nope.”

Silence. You stayed frozen in the entrance, hand on the door. You weren’t sure why you didn’t turn and leave.

At length, Din spoke again. “Did you want in the shower?”

“Uhh…” for some reason your face grew hot. “Yeah, I’ll just-“

“Is the kid asleep?”

Damn, your face just got _hotter._ “Yeah, he is. I’ll um…I’ll let you be. Take one later…” You hesitated at the door.

“Hm…” he hummed thoughtfully. “Or you could join me.” There was a split second between his words and your head exploding before he added, “If you want.”

 _If_ you wanted? Hell.

You threw a glance over your shoulder to the sleeping baby in his hammock. Then one hurried step brought you the rest of the way inside, slamming the door shut behind you. You couldn’t see Din’s soft smile on the other side of the door. Your clothes found their place on the floor right next to his. You stepped forward and knocked for him to let you in.

“Eyes closed?”

You felt just a little offended that he felt the need to ask. But at the same time you couldn’t blame him for being cautious. It was his entire way of life, after all.

“Mhm!”

The door slid open and you felt a sopping wet hand close around your arm and pull you in. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped, arms snaking around his neck.

“Mmmm…” he groaned deep. You could feel his gaze burning over you, hands sliding up and down your back as the shower quickly soaked your body. “You’re beautiful…”

“Wish I could say the same.” You meant it in a lighthearted, teasing way, but you instantly regretted it. Realizing how easily it could be misinterpreted as complaining. “I just mean-“ you added quickly. “I just mean…I do wish I could…look at you. A little. But it’s ok. I don’t mind, really.”

He was quiet for a moment. Hands paused on your skin.

“Just a second.”

You heard the door slide open and shut again. You mentally berated yourself for your insensitivity. Obviously he was either offended or hurt.

It was only a few seconds later that you heard the door again. You hadn’t opened your eyes the whole time.

“Ok. You can look,” Din said. His voice sounded different. More familiar, actually.

And when you opened your eyes to see him standing in front of you, naked except for his beskar helmet, you laughed. Not in a cruel way - the man on front of you was definitely nothing short of impressive, in all regards - but the absurdity of the situation was too much to handle.

“Is that thing waterproof?” You asked through a grin.

“Probably,” he answered, giving the helmet a couple taps.

Laughter fading, you finally approached, eyes roving hungrily as your palms reached out to splay over his abdomen. You noticed the way his breath picked up and smiled slyly.

“So this is what I’ve been missing…” you whispered, hands climbing slowly up his chest. “I should have bothered you in the shower way sooner.”

His low chuckle was honey to your ears. He grabbed your wrists and pulled you close.

Despite both of you knowing exactly where this was headed, Din was apparently in no rush, more than happy to indulge in the pretense of showering. He turned you around and let his broad hands explore your back, lathering you with soap. You sighed and relaxed into his touch.

Fingers danced from your neck, down to your back, eventually creeping around to your stomach. When he pulled you against his body and you felt him pressing firmly into your lower back, you stifled a gasp. His hands found their way up your chest, pausing to explore there before making his way to your neck.

“Can you take it off, please,” you breathed desperately. He paused. “I’ll close my eyes. Please. I need you to kiss me.”

After a moment’s consideration, his hands left your body. You squeezed your eyes shut. Din lifted his helmet off and let it hit the floor, not bothering to leave you for another second. Then his chest pressed firmly against your back and his mouth latched onto your neck. All you could do was gasp his name, hands covering his to guide them over the front of your body.

Then his mouth left you and he pulled you back, directly under the water.

“You taste like soap,” he mumbled, his voice hinting of laughter.

You smiled and wriggled from his grasp to raise your arms and let the water flow over you. Then you turned, slowly, running your fingers through your hair and down your neck. You could _feel_ Din staring you down.

Body sufficiently rid of lather, you placed your hands on your hips and tilted your chin in what you hoped was the direction of his face. You wondered if your expression conveyed the amount of attitude you were aiming for, with the absence of your eyes.

“I’m clean. What now, Mando?”

The space between was barely a heartbeat. Half a second. Somewhere in that span of time you could have swore you heard a catch of breath similar to laughter. You didn’t get time to figure it out before the Mandalorian slammed you up against the wall.

He grabbed your legs and yanked them around his torso.All you could do was comply and tighten around him, mind and heart racing too hard to form your own thoughts. He kissed you first, hard. Your hands clawed desperately at his back while his tongue invaded your mouth. For every little breath, every moan you heard from his throat, you knew you made a similar sound. Although you couldn’t hear yourself, blinded by the pleasure his sentiments stoked within you.

Anchoring against his shoulders, you began to move against him, desperate for more friction than the position and your slippery bodies allowed. Din grunted his approval and pushed you harder against the wall, if that was even possible. His hands shifted on your thighs as he tried to maneuver you lower on his body.

But the floor was slippery. And the wall was slippery. And the next moment found Din’s feet sliding from under him, both of you crashing to the floor in a tangle of limbs. He gave a single cut-off cry of surprise as he landed on top of you. You managed half a scream before your head bumped metal.

Din fumbled, two hands coming up in unison, one to cradle the back of your head, the other placed softly on your eyes. It wasn’t needed.The second you felt yourself falling you had screwed them tight.

“Sh- are you-are you ok?” He breathed.

“Yes,” you answered through a smile. “Are you?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed. Din moved his hands to either side of your head and lifted himself up, hovering above you, water hitting his back and spraying in all directions. You reached up and grabbed his waist, once again tilting your chin in that beckoning gesture you had learned to utilize. You had no way of knowing for sure, but you felt confident he was smiling down at you. The next second, he was lowering his body and finding your lips once again.

The rest of the delightful sounds you heard that evening, would earn a front row space in your mind for a very, very long time.

* * *

Later, dried off and warm, Din held you in the darkness of his bunk. It was a little cramped, not exactly designed for two, but neither of you minded. Above your feet, the child make gentle noises in his sleep.

You laid your head on his chest, tilting subtly until you found his heartbeat. Slow and steady beneath you. His fingers traced patterns on your back beneath your shirt. The crown of your favorite sound had lately been wrestled between his helmet coming off, his moan, and now his heart. All three of them were equally deserving, and stirred feelings you couldn’t explain. It was a tough call.

As you felt his chest expand and heard him give a deep yawn, the answer came to you. You didn’t have to choose one.

Your favorite sound was the sound of Din Djarin.

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully the couple people who have been waiting patiently for a month for me to update my phantom of the opera fic dont see this hahahaha imsosorry 
> 
> anyway i put this on tumblr like 7 hours ago and so far its gotten NOTHING so i consider that a flop thought id see what the people of ao3 think lemme know luvs


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